


Felt It Let Go of Me

by Ha_YouWish



Series: People Change [2]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, No KH3 spoilers, Out of Character Sora, That's kinda the Point tho, set after kh3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 22:58:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15650658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ha_YouWish/pseuds/Ha_YouWish
Summary: He's not the same as he used to be. That person, or that mixing of different people, is gone.If he pretends to be that person, maybe they won't notice. Maybe they won't notice who's missing. Maybe they won't find out he's all that's left.





	Felt It Let Go of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Florence + The Machine's "Too Much Is Never Enough" because it's a good song and you should listen to it.

This is a story about a boy who held so many in his heart. He held and healed them, and then, when the time came, he let them go. 

This is the story of the boy and the holes left behind by those he loves. 

It starts when the sky’s faint reddish glow barely peeks over the watery horizon, quickly melting into to the purple and black of the slowly receding night. The sun will be up soon, as well as his friends. They’ll find him and he’ll have to fake it like he always does lately.

They think something's wrong with him, that he’s not himself. 

_ “Something must’ve happened,” _ they say, but never in front of him,  _ “This isn't like him _ . _ ” _

They think that maybe it's someone else, someone they didn't know about, held deep inside his heart to recover. But it can't be, his heart can't handle to have another torn away from him.

_ “You've been acting strange lately, _ ” He’d once been confronted, “ _ We’re worried about you.” _

He hates it. His friends are only looking out for him, he knows that, and he still hates it. He’s never felt like this before, hating the hands that reach out to help him. It sits uncomfortably in his chest and it makes him feel confused and snappish.

He hates that, too. 

It’s not even anyone else anymore, no one is influencing his emotions or actions from the inside. He’s done it, they're all safe and happy, but he's changed with the cavern-sized holes they left behind. 

He's not the person his friends know anymore. If he ever shows them what he’s like when he’s not a scrapyard of people and emotions, he’ll be admitting to a fact he doesn't like to think about too much. 

But he's tired. Tired of pretending to be what he called himself when he was still a mess of several people. But he still does it, because a part of him still wishes that he could be that person for his friends. The one they need, the one whose name they call out as he walks away.

He flinches every time they say it. It's his name, but not in the way it's carried in their voices. They call to the one they know, they reach deep inside to look for the “real” him, the one they know and the one they love. But he’s not there, and they'll never find him. The consistent pain in his chest is proof of that.

_ “The one you know is a fake!”  _ he wants to snap at them whenever their eyes look at him with worry or something close to pity, “ _ I’m the only thing that's left of myself!” _

And it’s his own fault.

He’ll never regret what he’s done to help those who took shelter inside him, he’ll never regret helping them heal, but he just wishes that he doesn't have to be the part leftover. He wishes that he doesn't have to be the part that's unwanted but gets saved anyways until someone has the sense to throw him away.

He’s weak, his heart unable to even call out the the key that chose him (that never chose the  _ real _ him). The one time it answered sent him into complete panic at its entirely different appearance and feeling. He had been lucky that he was alone (not like he enjoys being alone). He can still feel it, the feeling of a slight breeze underneath his fingertips. He knows he'll be able to use it, but he's not ready to, not yet.

He's unstable, his moods switch at random and his nightmares make him cause harm to the unlucky soul who has to wake him up. He needs time to calm down from emotional episodes often. He needs time to breathe and break down after re-experiencing the several memories that belong to the people who once were in his heart, the strain on what's left is too much to bear them (but he still does it anyways so they don't get nightmares anymore). It gets more difficult to pretend he’s okay the more he is really not.

He’s overly dependent on other people. He’s sure that everyone around him is tired of him dragging them off to help with simple tasks, but he can't help it. He usually sticks to the side of whoever calms him down after waking him from his nightmares, due entirely to there being only a few places he can go alone where his heart doesn't feel like it's being stabbed repeatedly.

One of those places is the beach, so he wakes up early to get away.

His bare feet rest in familiar sand that brings back memories that he doesn't feel he has the right to call his anymore. His ears pick up the soothing sound of the waves as he watches dawn break over the horizon. 

He needs this time. A time to himself that doesn't hurt so much. A time to distract himself from the frustrating confusion and the aching holes inside. All he has to do is feel the sand, listen to the waves, and watch the sky.

Hours pass as he sits on the beach, hearing the birds in the trees start to wake. He feels torn between leaving this spot to go back to pretending everything is fine and staying where he is.

But then they're right there next to him, his childhood friends, asking if he's okay. He hates this.

He hates everything about this. 

He’s lying to them, he’s pretending to be someone he's not, and it all makes him feel horrible. 

He can't replace the old him, he just can't.

He tells them about it. He tells them everything. The words tumble from his mouth without stopping, saying how he's lied to them, how he's faked being the person they wanted, and how that's just not who he is anymore.

He’s anxious and jittery during the long stretch of silence afterwards. The looks on both of their faces are sad and pitying. All of a sudden arms wrap around him in a large hug. 

No, no, _no_. This is _not_ how it's supposed to go. He’s not supposed to be hugged or _forgiven_. He’s what's left, the nasty stuff you scrape out the bottom of the pan. This hug isn't for _him_ , it was for the one they lost. _He_ doesn't deserve it, he doesn't-

He twists himself away from them, stumbling backwards in the sand. The pain that the single action brings stabs at his heart, but he doesn't care anymore. He shouldn't be here, he can't be here. But he needs his friends, he needs other people and he knows it. 

He’ll just have to deal with it without them.

He leaves, running far and the fastest way out he can think of. 

They call out that name, still searching for someone that isn't there.

_ “Sora!” _

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so Sora's a mess. Let me say, I have a lot of Ideas on this topic but idk if I'll write them. If I do, it'll be a little less vauge overall (not like this was too vauge).
> 
> Shout out to Doot Noot for being a great person.
> 
> Constructive criticism is encouraged!


End file.
